Everything Changes
by Adali
Summary: “A splash, this time.” He smiled benevolently at Wendy. “This time, there is no Peter to save you.” COMPLETE
1. Prologue

_Okay then. So, this is a short ficcy (for me) which I've been working on on-and-off for teh past couple of years (ie a paragraph every couple of months). But now that I have like four chaps, I'm thinking maybe I should put it up. Maybe it'll inspire me to actually write the damn thing. But yeah, super short chapters and stuff. Trying a different sort of style, I guess. Please **Review**!!!!_   


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**Prolouge**

It was a tranquil evening in Kensington Park. The sun's last rays played across the trees, splendid in their autumn reds and golds. They sparkled on the surfaces of the little ponds and caressed a little pram, sitting alone in the middle of the path. 

The winds whispery voice echoed the woman's words. _I will return. I will return. Return_. The soft lullaby of its words comforted the two tiny infants, asleep under their thin blankets. 

A tiny mote of light fluttered about the park, brushing the tree tops then dipping down to skim the grass. When it reached the pram, it circled once, twice, thrice, then settled on the bar. The light mote pulsed with its golden brilliance, which spread as a slight glow to encompass the pram. A sort of sparkle traveled all through the gold, like a signal along a telegraph wire. 

Then, bit by bit, so slowly at first it would not have been noticed, the pram lifted. Once above the trees it began to move, headed north, two points beyond the brightest star. One of the infants woke and began to cry. The sound faded to an echo, repeated by the wind like the silent woman's voice, leaving Kensington Park dark and silent once more. Somewhere in the sky, in the north, a star twinkled brightly. 


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One******

It was hot in the kitchen. Far hotter than normal, and it seemed all the warmer for the unseasonably hot weather outside. The open oven door blasted heat out, causing the air around it to shimmer. 

Wendy wiped a hand across her brow, leaving a track of flour in the place of the little sweat she had managed to move. She didn't notice, though, for what was a little flour compared to the amount she was already covered in? She ran her flour covered hands down the front of her apron. It had been so white, once, so new. Now it was as worn as her dress, which she had outgrown years ago. 

The latest batch of buns would be done now. She lifted them out of the oven, deeply inhaling their warm, fresh scent as she did. They smelled of wood smoke, yeast, and that something else that was so distinctly Neverland. It was a wonderful smell, and it blended so nicely with the other kitchen smells. 

She left the buns on the window ledge to cool. None of the boys would take one, or there would be no supper for them until Peter decided they deserved it. 

When she turned back to check the buns, however, she received a very nasty shock. Fifteen perfectly round little buns greeted her, still warm. At the edge of their little group was a bare sport, empty except for a few crumbs and a memory of warmth. She always baked sixteen light gold buns, with little cross patterns on the top. The normally cheery patterns now seemed to glare at her suspiciously. Someone had pilfered her baking. It must be one of the younger boys, who didn't yet understand the difference between right and wrong, she reasoned. As his mother, it would be her responsibility to help him understand. She would see to it as soon as she was done baking. 

When the cute little oven was cooling and her apron was hung, Wendy chanced to glance back at the window sill. Amongst the loaves and tarts, cakes and pies, fourteen little crosses smiled cheerily at her. This would never do. Straightening her curly brown hair as best she could, she hurried out of the kitchen to find Peter. 


	3. Chapter Two Part I

_Well, this chapter is a much more typical length. I do seem to run on. Hmm... well, I think the next one's short. Sorta._   
**_Review!!!_**   


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**Chapter Two**

Something moved in the bushes to the left. Well, maybe it did. Not a leaf rustled, but Wendy was sure something was there. There always was in this dratted forest. It was more of a jungle, really, which she remembered her uncle telling her about when he came back from India. If it weren't for Peter she'd be away from it all, back in England, living in a proper house, with a maid and maybe a nice husband. Perhaps she'd never have a maid here, but she might have a husband. If Peter stopped thinking of her as a mother, his mother, and more of a… what was the use? He couldn't even remember her name most of the time. Still, she had a nice enough house – a hollow tree and a cave underground – and a loving family – two dozen boys she took care of and a half dozen girls that helped her. She set her mouth in a determined smile. The forest stirred again. 

"What is that?" she asked the boy ahead of her. Peter always sent some of the boys when she and her assistants went to Mermaid's Lagoon to do the washing. Not because he cared about her overmuch, she allowed, but because he and the boys would have holes in their stockings and bellies without her. 

"I don't know. Not pirates." He sounded uncertain, except when he spoke of the pirates. He knew for sure they weren't in the woods. 

"Ignore it," another boy snapped. She had learned from the boys that he had run off when she had arrived in Neverland, insisting he didn't need or want a mother. He had returned to the Lost Boys less than a month ago, for reasons unknown to her or anyone else. He should have liked her by now. He didn't. 

They cleared the last of the brush and arrived at the edge of the lagoon. Wendy set her basket down with a relieved sign, and her helpers did likewise beside her. Something slid beneath the water. It was just a flash at the corner of her eye, but she was sure she'd seen it, and there was a small ripple as though something were swimming underwater. Peer as she might through the dark, clear water, she could see no hint of the ripple's source. 

It was probably just a mermaid, but Wendy wasn't sure. There had been too many vagrant breezes and strange, half-heard sounds recently. Some of the younger boys, like her brother Michael, had begun to whisper that they weren't the only things living in the forest. Maybe they weren't, but who or whatever their companions were, they weren't the demons the youngsters made them out to be. Wendy was not at all worried. Peter would look after them, he'd keep them safe. 

The horrid boy no longer looked bored and irritated. His eyes flickered across the water the way they would if he thought another had taken his things. Wendy had seen that look often enough to know it. They boys sometimes chose to believe that they could take anything they wanted and no one would mind. The ones they took from seldom agreed. Short, sharp fights almost always followed, and it was all Wendy could do to ensure no one was hurt. 

The boy pulled off his shirt and, still wearing his trousers, dived smoothly into the deep waters of the lagoon. He refused to wear one of the bear suits that most of the other boys wore, opting instead for the rough linen clothes that Peter had taken to wearing in the past few years. It wasn't right that he should rise above himself that way. Not that she would mind if Peter abandoned the linen clothes for his old wardrobe of skeleton leaves. They showed off his smooth muscles and golden tan to perfection. But what was she thinking? It wasn't proper! 

Wendy started to wash a pair of stockings, waiting for the boy to surface. The more she waited, the more he didn't. Had the mermaids drowned him? He had entered their lagoon, and they might resent the intrusion. They had proved when she first came to Neverland that they didn't like anyone except each other and Peter. She voiced her concern to Slightly, the boy who had walked in front of her through the woods. 

"don't worry about Ray," he told her as he scanned the woods apprehensively. "He swims better than a fish. I doubt even the mermaids could catch him." Slightly had been with the Lost Boys almost as long as the boy – Ray – had, although he had stayed when Wendy came. 

There was another oddity about Ray. All the other boys had names like Slightly and Starkey or Nibs and Curly. The others who had been there when she arrived were Tootles and the twins, both of who were known simply as 'Twin'. Her brothers John and Michael had ordinary names of course, but every other boy had an off name assigned to him by Peter. Except Ray. Oh, his name was odd enough, but it was a real name, one she could see a boy back in England having. Although the one time she'd tried calling him Raymond he'd looked like he was going to hit her. Fortunately, Peter had intervened. Ray could simply not be trusted without a keeper, and the only one who could control him was Peter. It was a sorry mess for a mother to have to deal with. 

Wendy realised she had stopped washing and was sitting still, staring off across the water. With a furtive glance around she returned to washing the stockings. The three girls she had with her were still at their tasks, each washing a small mound of stockings and shirts. 


	4. Chapter Two Part II

_I've realized my computer refused to deal with anything beyond extremely small files, so now I'm afraid chapters will have to be cut into little pieces before they're posted. Appologies_   


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Ray's head burst out of the water perhaps thirty feet head of her. It was something you might have drawn in a picture or seen in a famous painting, a tanned boy bursting from still blue-black water, most of his upper body in the open air, his head thrown back to fling shaggy blond hair out of his closed eyes. The moment of beauty ended as Ray slid back into the water. He shook his head like a dog so his sun-bleached hair went every which way like whips before swimming for shore. His calm, easy strokes were as relaxed as if nothing had happened, although he had been underwater for what was easily over five minutes, and likely closer to ten. 

"Why did you go off like that?" one of the girls demanded as Ray waded ashore and pulled on his shirt. He was dripping and the shirt, previously clean, was covered in mud, but the stupid boy didn't seem to notice, let alone care. After all the work she and the girls put in to ensure he had clean clothes, one would think he could show some appreciation. 

"What if the pirates had come, " the second girl away from Wendy asked. Wendy didn't see why having Ray there if the pirates came would make a difference. Peter was the only one who could really protect them, but he'd told Ray to look after them. He would at least try to do as his chief said. 

"Pirates are on the other side of the island," Ray growled. Wendy doubted he'd said a single civil word since he'd come back to the home underground. Perhaps to Peter, when the two of them spent hours closeted together in Peter's room. Wherever he'd been, they obviously didn't put much store by manners. "Haven't been around here for days." 

"But that could change," the girl protested. Ray ignored her. 

"Did you see any mermaids?" the third girl asked suddenly. She had only been in Nerverland perhaps two weeks – time was elastic with the Lost Boys – and she had yet to see any. Wendy remembered how Peter had lured her to Neverland five years ago with promises of mermaids. If Wendy's experience served, this girl would see more of the beastly creatures than she wanted to. 

"Yeah. What about it?" Ray didn't really seem interested in the girl or his talk of mermaids. He was staring out at Marooner's Rock. 

"I'd love to meet a mermaid," the girl sighed. Her spun-gold hair fell dreamily across her forehead as she too stared out at the Rock. 

"I doubt they'd like to meet you," Ray said absently. Not spitefully, or indeed as if he cared what effect this simple statement would have on the girl. He was just stating a fact. He still hadn't taken his eyes off the Rock. 

He was probably right, Wendy admitted to herself, but that didn't mean he couldn't be nicer about it. The blond girl looked hurt, but didn't say anything. That was probably wise. Ray was as cold and hard as the rock he was staring at. Wendy washed clothes without looking at them, instead watching Ray watch the lagoon. Why was he staring? 

A mermaid leapt out of the water in a graceful arc and re-entered the lagoon without a splash. Was that it, then? None of the boys had ever gone haring off after a mermaid before, although it had been known to happen to redskins and pirates. The Boys were generally too young, but at sixteen or so, Ray might not be. Wendy had to admit that the fishy flirts were beautiful, but that didn't mean she had to like it. 

"Please don't chase mermaids, Ray dear," she said in her best motherly tone, kind and concerned. His eyes had followed the mermaid's flight with keen interest. "You're much too good for them." Ray looked at her levelly. 

"Mermaids are well enough in their way," he said calmly, with no trace of emotion. He had been looking at their nearly-bare chests! 

The blond girl hadn't moved from her position, kneeling with a stocking in one hand, her eyes wide and staring out across the lagoon. Her lips worked soundlessly. It was probably something about mermaids. 

Wendy finished her washing quickly, eager to get Ray away from the lagoon. She might not like the boy, but she was his mother. Not his real mother, maybe – he was older than she was – but he was still her responsibility. 

They left the lagoon and headed back to the tree, walking quickly. They would have to do the washing over again if it got dirty or wrinkled on the way home. Again, something unseen stirred the leaves, although no more than the slightest breeze would. Wendy couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere, up in the branches, there was something watching her. Watching, and laughing. 


	5. Chapter Three

Chapter Three   
It took a very long time to get used to the night time sounds of Neverland. Although Wendy hardly noticed them now, they had once scared her terribly, as they now did the other girls. New boys rarely had such problems, or at least, rarely showed them.   
Everyone was unusually jumpy tonight, though. The night animals seemed more menacing, the distant sounds of the redskins ominous. The pirates' complete silence was the worst. 

In their little hollows, the boys whispered about a demon, a formless terror that haunted the forest. The girls heard them and whimpered. Where was Peter? she wondered. Normally he would make a grand speech, assuring the children their fears were baseless. Through the whispered conversations she could hear older voices murmuring somewhere in the depths of the tree. 

She made her way quietly to Peter's room, taking care not to disturb those already asleep. Just outside the curtain she paused, listening to the low voices which were suddenly clear. Though she'd been taught eavesdropping was wrong, she always did it anyway. It was, to her mind, her greatest vice, but sometimes she was glad of it. 

Somewhere on the other side of the heavy leather curtain, someone was playing the pan pipes. She would have thought it was Peter, but it sounded like his voice singing softly. The pipes stopped, and a second boy's voice joined the first. They finished the song together. 

"I miss the old days," Peter said at length. "I hadn't thought anything had changed until you got back. Now I see how different it is." 

"Everything changes, Pete," the second voice said. Unless Wendy was very much mistaken, it was Ray. But it was a different Ray than she was used to hearing. There was no scorn or anger in his voice, just calm and a sort of resigned kindness. It made it pleasant to listen to, more like Peter's. 

"They shouldn't. Not in Neverland. Nothing's supposed to change in Neverland."   
"But they do change. Roberts was thrown down. You became chief. The redskins moved camp." 

"So? Those were big changes, sudden ones. Not like what's happened to the Boys. That was slow, and it was bad."   
"You know as well as I do what caused the change. No, don't try to avoid it. The Lost Boys changed because they weren't boys anymore, Pete. They changed because girls showed up." 

"You're wrong," Peter snapped. "They didn't change because a girl came. They changed because a girl…" Because a girl what? Wendy wondered. As far as she knew, she was the first girl to come to Neverland. Tinkerbell, the mermaids, and the redskin women had been here first, of course, but they had never really been part of the Lost Boys, had they? Besides, they were all doing the same things they'd always done. So what did she, Wendy, have to do with this change that Peter found so displeasing? 

"Tell yourself what you want. You know I'm right." The pan pipes began again, a slow, mournful tune. Wendy fled without talking to Peter, hating Ray with every fibre of her being. 


	6. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Wendy had just finished hanging the last of the washing when a tootle of pan pipes announced Peter's return. She hurried out to meet him, ignoring the other girls' questions about meal preparation. They knew what to do by now. She just hoped Peter hadn't found a new boy, as he often did on his extended trips – they were running out of room. Worse, he might have brought Tiger Lily. Peter would never think of the princess as anything but a redskin – at least, he had better not – but Wendy didn't want her near him. Peter was hers! 

She emerged in the small clearing just outside the tree. Peter was there, she saw with a smile, cross-legged beneath a tree playing his pipes. Ray lounged against another tree, playing accompaniment on his own set. Wendy stopped dead, her smile fading. No one but Peter played pan pipes. No one! 

They stopped playing, but not to look at her. Peter's face was uncharacteristically solemn as he stared at the tree tops. Then, somewhere in the distance or perhaps right above them, another set of pipes began to play. While Peter's melody had been cheery, and Ray's somehow stately, this one was haunting. 

At first it was barely recognisable as a set of pipes, sounding instead as if Neverland itself was singing. The pure music was offset by the songs of birds and the distant sound of the waves, which somehow became part of the soulful tune. Later, Wendy could not have sung back a single bar of the song, could not remember the sound, but only recall the emotions it brought to the surface. You couldn't have sung along, as with a pirate shanty, although the birds did, nor have danced to it as with the music back in England. 

When it stopped, its echo still floating through the trees, the forest was silent. Wendy felt almost that if she strained, she could still hear a faint echo of it, but at the same time, the song might never have been. For a moment the forest was still, poised between realities, before the spell was broken as Neverland's inhabitants returned to their lives. 

"It didn't work," Peter said heavily. "I was so sure…" 

"It did work," Ray interrupted. He was always interrupting Peter, Wendy thought, vexed. He should know his place by now. "Just not the way we thought. We were wrong, is all. It's not the end of the world." Peter just looked at him. What didn't work? Wendy wondered. She was sure there was a vital clue, something she'd missed, here, but still trapped in the music's spell, she could not think what it could be. The two boys looked up and saw her, and the grief on Peter's face, coupled with the deep anger only just veiled that etched lines in Ray's forehead, made her wonder if she really wanted her questions answered.   



	7. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Wendy hated wash day. She hadn't before, but recently – since that first trip to the lagoon with Ray, in fact – something had felt wrong. Every time she was forced to make the long journey, bearing her load of laundry, she was bitterly reminded of Ray's words to Peter. Everything changes. But it wasn't supposed to, not in Neverland. Neverland was a place for the eternals; good and evil, life and youth, spirit and happiness. 

Things changed, though. The most disturbing were in herself and those around her. Peter, who could not have been more than eleven when they met, had aged every one of the years she'd spent here. She knew, because she had counted them. He looked sixteen now, though he was probably well over a hundred. But he'd spent innumerable years without changing. It was a disturbing thought, especially when she put it together with the conversation she'd overheard. 

She had aged too, although that didn't bother her so much. It had always been secretly appealing, imagining herself as a grown woman, wearing a proper dress and running a proper household. Those were just dreams, she knew. Her dress didn't reach her ankles, her house was a giant tree, its occupants children playing at being grown up. 

She pushed on through the jungle, following Tootles carefully. Ray was up ahead, leading the group along the ever-changing path to the lagoon. "Are there any pirates about?" she called up to him. She was determined to bring him into the family she'd created, and his continued resistance only made her more so. 

"There will be if you yell like that, came his reply. Wendy had to bite back an angry retort. The insolent whelp! Almost three months and still he hadn't learned any manners. Leaves rustled, as if the forest were laughing at her. 

She didn't credit the younger boys' tales of demons and spirits, but she was sure there was something out there in the forest, something that didn't like her. 

A strangely echoing yet unmistakable voice cut the forest's only slightly hostile tranquility. "Mister Smee!" Wendy clapped a hand across her mouth, only stopping part of her scream. The basket balanced on her hip waver precariously. Hook had found them. But perhaps there was still hope. They could hide, and maybe the pirates wouldn't find them. 

Even as she began looking about frantically, Ray destroyed and chance they had of getting away. "C-c-coming Captain!" he responded in a passable imitation of the boson. 

Wendy fought back tears of fear and despair. She would not let Hook see her cry. She wouldn't give Ray that satisfaction either. 

She couldn't stop herself, however. It was several minutes before she realised there wasn't any sound in the forest besides what she and the children were making. When she mastered herself she found Ray laughing softly, leaning back against a tree with that degree of insolence that always annoyed her so badly. Twirling about one finger was a pirate's hat. One of Hook's hats. 

"You really believed that was Hook, didn't you? Poor, poor Wendy." The honorific 'mother' that should have come before her name was notably absent. So too was any trace of politeness in his expression. 

"Ray, you should know better than to play jokes like that," she scolded, mastering herself completely. "It scares the others."   
"But not you, eh Wendy?" He chuckled and tossed the hat in the air, catching it on his head. "You don't seem to mind when Peter does it." 

"That's different." 

Ray nodded slowly, as though in understanding. "Aye, it's different. It's always different, when it's not your precious Peter." He scowled at her. Suddenly, any fear of pirates Wendy had had evaporated in the face of Ray. Being held hostage by pirates would be preferable to being stuck with him. "The little boys can't eavesdrop, but it's alright if Wendy does it. And Peter can steal biscuits, but woe betide the boy who goes looking for an afternoon snack." He pulled the pirate hat low over his brow and stalked away through the jungle, leaving the rest of them to follow. 

When Wendy reached the lagoon shore, he was gone. His shirt, which Wendy and the girls worked so hard to keep clean, was lying in the mud, with the mysteriously acquired hat on top. It, she noted, didn't have any mud on it at all. 

Ray didn't appear until they were finished the washing. He dropped out of a tree behind Wendy, soundless. It was Tootles's cry of alarm that alerted the rest of them to his presence. 

"What were you doing?" Ray demanded. "You should have seen me a long time ago. What if I had been pirates? Eh, what then? You'd all be dead or captive, that's what." 

Tootles looked sheepishly around at the other boys, probably hoping for support. All the others looked away, as red in the face as he. They were as much to blame as Tootles. "Pirates make more noise than you do,   
he ventured at last. 

Ray's expression changed. Or, more accurately, he gained one. More of his expressions were just blanks, as far as Wendy could tell. Now he actually looked mad. "It's a wonder you lot have survived this long," he said angrily. "And here I thought Peter was at least competent." 

Wendy bristled at the comment about Peter. "Ray, you aren't being fair. I understand you're upset, and you have reason to be, but…" Wendy foundered. She was trying to be supportive and understanding, but Ray didn't seem to understand those things. He had turned his angry gaze on her. Wendy felt herself going red, and her tongue getting mixed up. She was trying to help, couldn't he see that? 

"You've already caused enough trouble. Be quiet." No anger, no malice, just sinister calm. Wendy closed her mouth. Ray looked around at the children. "What are you waiting for? Back to the tree." 


	8. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six******

For once, Wendy was looking forward to a laundry trip. Ray had been gone for nearly two weeks, off on some mission for Peter. For once he'd done as he was told. That, Wendy knew, was progress. Ray was learning his place within the Lost Boys, and accepting it. Someday, perhaps even in the near future, he would listen to her. 

Today was promising to be a wonderful day. The sun was shining, as it almost always was, and the clear sky promised a wonderfully warm day, as always. But today it seemed more brilliant, as it had when she had first arrived. She tried telling herself that it had nothing to do with Peter's plan to accompany them to the lagoon today. He would probably spend most of his time flirting with the mermaids anyway, she thought sourly, but even that didn't sour her mood for long. Although, now she thought of it, it did seem they liked him better now that he was older. Certainly they touched him a lot more, and their smiles seemed somewhat brighter… but there she was, being jealous again for absolutely no reason. Peter was much too sensible to go haring off after a mermaid, even if Ray wasn't. 

It was, as Wendy had hoped, a wonderful day. Peter was attentive and kind, and spent as much time with her as he did with the mermaids. And if he looked out over the lagoon a lot, seemingly lost in thought and brooding, what of it? He was watching for pirates, of course. 

Her glorious mood was shattered when they turned back towards the path to the tree. She opened her mouth to scream for Peter, but too late. She could already hear the sounds of struggle as he fought off pirates. Hook advanced, smiling menacingly. He, unlike them, had not aged a day since her arrival. "Come, my dear, I don't believe you had a chance to look over our ship the last time you were aboard." And he dragged her, kicking and screaming for Peter, Tootles, someone to help her. 

Huddled with the Boys on the deck of the pirate ship, Wendy still could not believe that ease and speed with which they had been captured. It was like last time – so easy and neat, it was unbelievable. Except this time, there seemed to be no escape. Peter was as caught as the rest of them, his dagger confiscated and he himself trapped under a heavy, close-woven net. He was raging at Hook, his voice slightly muffled through the hemp. 

Hook, for his part, looked both completely calm and terribly smug. He knew, as did they all, that he had caught every one of the Boys likely to offer resistance, and most of the girls. Only a few of the younger boys had remained back at the tree, and the golden-haired girl who had remained to make them lunch and air out the blankets. There would be no help from there. 

Peter's voice, so near her ear, whispered top her. "At least they haven't caught Ray. It's actually good you two have been fighting so much, or he'd have been caught instead of me." 

"But Peter," Wendy cried, forgetting herself completely, "that's terrible. It should…" 

"Quiet," Peter snapped. Wendy couldn't remember him ever using that tone with her. 

Hook, however, had heard. He rose lethargically from his chair and advance slowly down the deck, like a courtier in a ballroom. 

"What, if I may inquire, is the cause of this disruption? Miss Wendy, did you have something you wished to share with us?"   
"No," Wendy snapped. Her voice, though, quavered uncertainly. 

"Very well then. Men, you know what to do." The captain sauntered back to his chair. It seemed the men really did know what to do, because the bundled up Peter's net, knocking Wendy aside. From a locker the produced several stones, already by ropes. These they attached to the net, creating a heavy, inescapable prison around Peter. With a sickening lurch, Wendy realized what they were going to do. 

She was still screaming when three pirates heaved the sack overboard, raising a fountain of water and a resounding splash. 

_Finally, the death of Peter Pan. Should I stop here...?_


	9. Chapter Seven

_I've decided to put this into two parts, just because. So here is the beginning of part two, which doesn't differ significantly from part one, and in fact even has the same chapter titles. Oh well. Shorter chapters, maybe... on account of my computer and all._   


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**Part II******

**Chapter Seven******

"A splash, this time." He smiled benevolently at Wendy. "This time, there is no Peter to save you." 

"That's what you said last time." Though she tried to sound defiant, as Peter had been right to the end, she couldn't quite manage it. 

"Yes, but this time, I have made doubly sure." He tapped the glass lantern that held Tinkerbell with his golden hook. The glass, caught within a wooden case, rang clearly. Tinkerbell had been caught as surely as the rest of them. There was no hope, then, for Peter was dead and Ray was gone. 

Somehow, though, the tears would not come. It was a complete numbness that pervaded her, making it all seem somehow not real. Peter could not be dead. No one died in Neverland. That was why it was called Neverland… wasn't it? Maybe Ray would find Peter, save him in time. Maybe… 

"Please sign the book." Hook indicated the book in front of him, spread wide so its clean white pages shone in the sunlight of her now ruined perfect day. Black ink covered one page, fading from jet at the bottom to a pale grey at the top, where sun and weather had done their work on the page. 

Wendy took the quill in one numb hand, marvelling at how long it had been since she had written anything. She stared blankly at the page, unsure that she could do this even after Peter's death. It would be betrayal. The other option was the plank…   
But that was betrayal in a way, too. Peter had fought for years to keep them alive and safe. Throwing it all away now would be terrible. And she didn't want to die. Not yet. She might still make it back to England and her family. 

Her eyes stared, uncomprehending, at the names on the first page. There were so many, far more than there were pirates. Was it possible, then, that they could die. Near the top, perhaps a fifth of the way down, a few lines caught her eye. Two had been crossed out so heavily, so angrily, that they was now completely obscured, and the page had ripped slightly behind them. Below these, again crossed out heavily but still legible, a name glared back at her. All she could see was the name, burning into her eyes. With a scream she threw down the quill and ran to the deck where Peter had been thrown over. Now the tears came, pouring out in raucous sobs. Traitor. Traitor. And the name still glared angrily in her mind's eye, every scratch across it, every childishly formed letter. Ray. 


	10. Chapter Eight

_Short story for me. Really short chapters too. Hmm... well, that means it'll be finished. Why, there may even be a sequel *collective gasps*_   


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**Chapter Eight******

"Leave her," Hook said easily. "I suppose this is all a bit of a shock. Come my dear, it's not so bad. Things turn out. You'll see." 

"Y-yes," Smee put in. "Why, when R-r-roberts was, well, that is to say…" 

"That's enough Mr Smee," Hook snapped. "We don't talk about them." 

Something about the name caught Wendy's memory, but she couldn't think through her grief and anger. She had been right all along about Ray, but Peter couldn't see it. Oh, why hadn't Peter been able to see it? He'd never understood Tinkerbell's jealousy, but that was because she was his oldest friend. Wendy could understand that. But why Ray? Why did he have to trust Ray? How could he believe that Ray would save them, when Ray was a pirate himself. 

"I am waiting," Hook said, addressing himself to the silent group of boys and girls. "Who will sign? Who will walk?" He had paced slowly, menacingly down towards the huddled children. Wendy watched him, warily, but turned as quickly as he when a voice spoke from by the desk. 

"I don't see why you're so eager for them to sign, James. You never did like children. Always kicking them off the ship." A slip figure was bent over the book, trailing a tanned finger down the page. "Why, you can't even read my name anymore you've crossed it out so heavily. And I was ever such a good pirate." The figure looked up and Wendy saw the most engaging pair of green eyes she had ever seen – except Peter's, of course – under a long fringe of brown hair that was just the same color that Peter's had been. For a second she thought it might even be Peter, against all odds, but only for the shortest moment. The girl winked cheerily at the staring group. "Hello all."   



	11. Chapter Nine Part I

**Chapter Nine******

Hook responded only a half heartbeat later. "Get her!" Pirates swarmed down the deck towards the girl. She was so like Peter that Wendy could not help but stare. The quirk of the eyebrow, the tilt of the chin, the shirt with the red darning wool on the shoulder, which Peter had joked made him look dashing. Peter had loved that shirt, but he'd lost it months ago. Somehow this girl had found it, and what looked like a set of Peter's trousers too. What did he do, Wendy wondered in shock, go around taking off his clothes in the woods and running about stark naked? She banished the thought just as the first pirates reached the girl. 

Or rather, reached where the girl had stood. She flew up, straight up like an arrow – like Peter – to perch on the sail arm where she was silhouetted against the white canvas, crouching like a gargoyle. Then she rose slowly to her feet, and two more shapes which Wendy had thought were coiled ropes rose with her. Three knives drew identical slashed in the canvas to it billowed out, then back. As it passed the sail arm each figure stepped through the tears as one might a doorway, confident and calm for all they were standing on a swaying piece of wood thirty yards above the deck. Seeing them, Wendy cried out. 

All three were dressed the same, in the pale shirts and darker green trousers that Peter wore. Each held a dagger like Peter's in their hand. The girl that looked so like Peter stood in the centre. To one side was a boy the could have been Peter's twin, so alike were they. On the other side stood Ray. 

"Get them!" Hook cried again, as ineffectively. Pirates began to swarm up the mast and ropes. A few more enterprising ones moved with cold deliberation towards the Lost Boys. 

The boy that looked like Peter shouted something, some sort of curse Wendy thought, and leapt from the sail arm, followed a heartbeat later by Ray and the girl. Wend screamed again. What were they doing? Only Peter could… 

But apparently they could fly too. The boy who looked like Peter, who could have been Peter except that Peter was dead, fell on the pirates that were advancing on the Lost Boys. Ray and the girl grabbed Hook, who was running and trying to keep his head down, and lifted him off the deck by his jacket shoulders. 

Ray gave a rooster crow, just like Peter had used to. Wendy screamed again, this time in anger. He was always copying Peter. He had no right… he wasn't Peter! Hearing her scream, the girl looked down. Wendy say Ray laughing, his lips moving to say something to the girl. Then she laughed too, a high peel that cut through the melee. Again the crow sounded, but this time it was from the girl's lips, higher and sweeter but still, still Peter's call. 

The boy who looked like Peter answered, and for an instant it was as though Peter had never died, and was there to save them again. Then the dream collapsed, and Wendy screamed again in rage and frustration. Ray laughed again, and called down to her, "Shouldn't scream like that, Wendy. You'll lose your voice. Then how will you yell at me?" 

He and the girl both laughed. Wendy didn't dare look over at the second boy, for fear she would see him laughing too. That would be like Peter laughing at her. "I hate you," she screamed back. "Hate you." 

Even Hook, dangling by his jacket, laughed at her then. The girl seemed to decide she liked being the centre of attention, so she issued the rooster crow again. "Hey everybody, look-ie, look-ie I got Hook-ie!" Several of the older Boys, the ones that had been in Neverland when Wendy arrived laughed and jeered, seemingly over their fright. 

"Right on, chief!" one of the twins yelled, hurling something at Hook. The girl dipped slightly in the air so Hook caught it full in the face. 

"That is enough." Silence descended over the ship with amazing speed. Wendy turned to find an elderly man by the helm, dressed in full pirate regalia. His jacket was easily as splendid as Hook's, but worn with far greater dignity. He could have been, Wendy thought, an admiral in the English navy rather than a pirate in a fairytale land. "I appreciate your efforts, children, but I am happy in my refuge. You need not win back my place for me."   



	12. Chapter Nine Part II

"That is enough." Silence descended over the ship with amazing speed. Wendy turned to find an elderly man by the helm, dressed in full pirate regalia. His jacket was easily as splendid as Hook's, but worn with far greater dignity. He could have been, Wendy thought, an admiral in the English navy rather than a pirate in a fairytale land. "I appreciate your efforts, children, but I am happy in my refuge. You need not win back my place for me." 

"We weren't doing it for you sir, if you'll forgive me saying," the girl's voice rang out. "But Hook overstepped himself this time." 

"And you took it upon yourself to discipline him, didn't you?" the old man sighed. "You never cease to amaze me, Eric, you really don't." 

"Course not. Can't have that changing, now can we?" The three children – Ray, Eric, and the boy who looked like Peter – all laughed at that, as though it were a great joke. "Things aren't supposed to change." Eric's eyes were serious, though a smile still played about her lips. She directed her burning gaze at Wendy for just a moment, but Wendy was sure that last comment had referred to her. 

The old man sighed. "Of course, of course. Dare I ask how James has overstepped himself?"   
"Chucked me brother in the sea, sir. Net and rocks and all. Not sporting, that."   
"Why do I get the idea you plan to return the favour?" 

Eric frowned for a minute, then swiftly kicked Hook in the head. The pirate's head fell foreword, and together Eric and Ray flew towards the old man. Wendy bit back a protest. This girl was easily her own age, yet she acted like she was still a child. Not sporting, she had said? What was 'sporting' about kicking a helpless opponent like that? 

They dropped Hook in a pile on the deck and saluted the old man. The boy who looked like Peter flew lightly to join them, and did likewise. 

Eric spoke quietly to the man for a few minutes, so low the Wendy couldn't hear. The man's gaze swept over the pirates and the boys, resting once or twice on Wendy, but never touched Eric or Ray, or even the boy that looked like Peter. Finally he nodded. 

"I suppose this has all been very strange for some of you. Perhaps I can help." He wasn't yelling, but his voice carried clearly through the crowd, carried by the weight of its own authority. "My name, which I suppose only a few of you remember, is Jack Roberts. Captain Roberts, as it were, though some of my crew disagreed." His slow nod took in Hook, lying in a crumpled heap on the deck. Unbidden, Ray's words came back to Wendy. 'Roberts was thrown down…' 

A few of the pirates shuffled their feet guiltily. "I suppose my name is no longer in the book? No matter. Perhaps we are not as eternal as we think." He pulled himself back from his reverie with obvious effort. "You all know Peter, I suppose?" The boy who looked like Peter waved cheerily to the boys, who broke into lusty, if half disbelieving, cheers. Wendy could only stare. Roberts looked at him thoughtfully. "You always did like to be the centre of things, Peter." 

"Yes sir," Peter responded, deferent for once. Wendy felt her knees give way beneath her, and she sat heavily on the deck. How…? 

"Ah, and I suppose a number of you know Ray." Ray bowed, flourishing the hat he had just whipped off Hook's head. "But I wonder how many of you remember Eric?" Silence greeted this. Slowly, a few of the boys filed up to just below the railing. 

Most of the boys had curiosity or bafflement painted on their faces, but these few held only wonder. 

"We thought you were dead," one of the twins said.   
"Saw you go down," the other one added. "Leastwise, we thought we did."   
"An' you never came back?" demanded Starkey.   
Eric shrugged. "Peter wanted the job." 

"But you were our chief." Suddenly, for the first time all day, pieces began to fall together in Wendy's mind. Ray blamed her for the changes in the Lost Boys, but Peter blamed Eric. She'd abandoned them all. 

She stood and made her way slowly up onto the quarterdeck. "You… you're the reason everything is going wrong," she said, thrusting her face in front of Eric's. Up close, the other girl was taller than she, as tall as Peter. "You and him. You're traitors. Pirates." She hissed the last word. 

Eric raised her hand, and for a moment Wendy thought she was going to slap her. Eric obviously thought so too, from the look of surprise that flashed across her face when Peter grabbed her arm. 

"Eric, please. This is our mother, Wendy. She takes care of us." The concern in his face touched Wendy. So he did remember her name. He even cared about her. 

Eric's scowl deepened to a frown. "Mother…" she said quietly. "Mother Wendy." The muscles in her forearm relaxed, although only slightly. "I ought to slap you, Pete, for bringing her here." She turned back to Wendy, opening her mouth to say something, but then changed her mind. She shook her head ruefully and snatched her hand out of Peter's grip, then walked to the rail. Turning, just once to gaze at the silent group that still stared at her, she shook her head again. Then she spat, the spittle flying through the air in a disgusting gob to land a few inched in front of Wendy's feet. Wendy edge away, staring in horror. 

When she looked up again, Eric was gone, flying over Neverland and disappearing amongst the trees. 


	13. Epilogue

_Well, my computer's working again, so here it is... the conclusion to this rather erratic story. There were a few questions posted by reviewers, so I think I'll take the opportunity to answer them._   
_1. Why does Ray hate Wendy?_   
_ Because he thinks Wendy doesn't belong in Neverland, and should take herself off back to England (I realize she actually does in the books, but I'm going to ignore that little detail. Come up with an explanation of how she got back if you'd like. I don't think it makes much difference, personally)_   
_2. Why does Eric hate Wendy?_   
_ She doesn't. I think 'apathy' is a better summary of her feelings towards Wendy._   
_3. What was with Ray and the mermaids?_   
_ To answer that, I'm going to need to write a sequel... it's not easily answered. So..._

* * *

**Epilogue** (Or perhaps the Prologue) 

Ray stuck out his hand, and Peter shook it. The two boys looked each other in the eyes, and Wendy could have sworn they communicated far more than they said. "Some day," Ray said.   
"I look foreword to it," was all Peter replied. Then Ray leapt from the deck, following Eric's course over the island.   
"It is time," Roberts said thoughtfully, "for me to return to my retirement." He lowered himself over the edge of the ship with surprising grace for a man of his years, into a little boat that had waited, unnoticed, in the wake of the ship.   
Wendy turned to find Peter looking at her, his gaze as intense as Eric's had been. She threw her arms around him. "How… how did you survive?" she asked, fighting back the tears that were threatening to flow again.   
Peter pushed her away very gently. "My sister. And my best friend." He turned away from her, looking down at the Lost Boys. "Let's go home, boys." 


End file.
